#chadlock

A question from a BYU student:

Step 1: Have an idea that looks good on paper. 

When I hear a writer laughing at something in script form, I know it’s going to be good. 

Step 2: Find the best director for the job regardless of budget. 

I have never liked it when I’m told to concept within my budget. Granted, there are certain guardrails you have to keep in mind: It doesn’t have to be a multi-day shoot in Prague and it shouldn’t require an A-list celebrity to pull it off. Believe it or not, A-list directors are clamoring to find scripts they love. There’s so much mediocre work being done these days that pay the bills. You might need to open up the timeline a little to accomodate their busy schedules, but if you make a client aware of that from the beginning, it’s pretty easy to navigate. It’s a bit radical, but consider single bidding it if you really know who you want to do the job.

Step 3: Let the director in. 

As the author of the idea, your team always has the final say, but often a good director will bring a new angle, thought, or even line to a spot. If they are invested in the creative, they’ll be invested in the execution. 

Step 4: Inform your client you always reserve the right to make the work better, even after it’s been approved. 

This is key. Shooting a spot is like bringing a living breathing thing into the world. There will be opportunities that arise that you’re going to want to take advantage of that you couldn’t see in 2D form. If you’re locked into your shooting boards and script, you may miss out on something magical. 

Step 5: Treat the pre-pro meeting with the same level of energy and detail you treat shoot days. 

Having a tight pre-pro, shooting boards, casting sheets, and location scout will calm your client and allow you more room to take risks during production. 

Step 6: Give the editor first shot an edit before you show up.

This one is one of the hardest things to do, but if you give the editor some latitude to get to know the footage before you show up and take a crack at telling the story the way they see it, they’ll give you time above and beyond the estimate. 

Step 7: Treat every stage of production as equally important.

I met Eric at One Show’s first Creative Leader’s Retreat in Arizona 4 years ago. We instantly bonded over our love for all things creative. He was one of those rare hybrid ECD’s who was fluent in every facet of advertising. He embraced it all. And he hustled. His enthusiasm for the industry was infectious and we spent the next few days discussing all things advertising. We talked about the work, life balance in our industry and how it wasn’t a gender issue. It was an industry issue. So I wasn’t too surprised when I heard he was making a shift to be a stay-at-home Dad. As an ECD and a mom, I applaud his choice. The only way we’re going to make any headway on this issue is if we all embrace the importance of family, whether it’s kids or parents, and work to create an environment for our people where a family focus is not only tolerated, but encouraged.

It was early August, 2006. My wife and I had just moved back from San Francisco. Like so many Midwesterners, we leave, go explore and then come back to raise a family. That was us. And I was meeting our incredibly welcoming new neighbor for the first time. “What do you do for a living?” she asked. “Advertising stuff,” I offhandedly replied. “Oh, growing up, my father was in advertising…” A long pause ensued before she continued, “I never saw him.”

That un-sugarcoated conversation, just a few months before the first of our three daughters was born, stayed etched in my head. And while I’ve been pretty lucky to work for agencies that strive to balance a healthy dose of creativity with family time, there were times I often found myself replaying it. From those nights I swore I’d be home for dinner but got wrapped up in an ad emergency, to those stretches of back-to-back new biz pitches. The list, as you know, goes on. And as time went on, an idea kept popping into my head that maybe someday I’d take some time to stay at home more with the kids.

Fast forward to late 2016. I realized there couldn’t be a better time to make the move. Especially since our daughters were still all under ten and actually wanted to spend more time with me (I’ve been told that’s a really small window). And before I forget, one more important thing: I have a really supportive wife who thinks every dad should do this at least once (Thanks, Katie). So after 20-plus years of full-time employment in the biz, I left to be a stay-at-home parent—with some freelance thrown in for good measure—aka helping pay the bills.

I always wondered why, beyond the obvious financial consequences, more dads didn’t give it a try. But I quickly realized the stay-at-home dad thing, as receptive and supportive as my friends and family were, still has a long way to go before it ever becomes the new normal. Or even the somewhat normal. The visceral reactions I received said it all.

Reaction #1: “Say what?”

These responses were kicked off with a pronounced double take. And while every “Is it really true?” or “Say what?” reaction was usually followed by a “That is so awesome… good for you,” I was a little surprised that so many people were, well, surprised.

Reaction #2: “Man, I wish I could do that.”

These were almost a little depressing. Listening to people come right out and admit to being shackled to some kind of handcuffs (pick your color: bronze, silver or gold). Or expressing that they didn’t think their spouse would support the idea. And, in one case, surrendering to “maybe if I were to ever get laid off or fired, I’d try it out.”

Reaction #3: “Does your wife work?”

I think the curiosity here was most likely twofold: Were we somehow well enough off that I could take the leap? Or could it be that the woman of the family was the breadwinner?

Reaction #4: “Aren’t you worried about…”

A few people came right out and showed sincere concern for my future in the biz. “Aren’t you worried about getting rusty?” "What if your portfolio gets old?" “How will you jump back in?”

Reaction #5: “Let’s grab beers and you can tell me what really happened.”

I suppose in a post-truth era, it's no surprise a few people thought there's got to be more to the story. No simple answer would suffice this rumor-du-jour-loving group. There just had be something behind my move. I got fired. I flipped out. I got caught stealing a 12-pack of LaCroix from the supply closet. What was it?

So there you have it. A look at some reactions—and perhaps telltale signs that, even as progressive as our industry is, the stay-at-home dad thing is nowhere near trending anytime soon.

I do wonder why it’s so hard to believe why a dad would quit for a little more time with the family (anyone heard of an old ad man looking back at his life and wishing he spent more time at the office?). But we’re an industry that embraces change. Look no further than the 3% movement and the gig economy that are forcing us to take a hard look at how we do business day in and day out. Perhaps some day glib sayings such as “Good enough isn’t good enough.” will be supplanted with “Go home and eat dinner with your kids.” After all, for most parents, it’s really not about whether or not to stay at home, it’s about simply being around more.

Finally, I’d be remiss to point out another group of heartfelt reactions. Namely, from my three young daughters:

“Yeah! Can you pick me up from school now?”

“This means you can go on more field trips, right?”

“Dad’s volunteering at our school library!”

And just like that, my decision was confirmed.

A recent question from a VCU Brandcenter student:

How long do young people fresh in the industry typically seek out all the high profile agencies before they get a better understanding for quality of  life /work, and leave those powerhouse agencies for smaller shops?

As someone who’s been at a small shop my entire career, I’m not the best person to advise on this topic. But, I have many friends who have gone from big shops to small shops and vice versa. It’s not an either / or proposition. I’ve come to the conclusion that size isn’t the determining factor of success. Ability to have impact and autonomy are the core tenants of a good agency. If you are at a big agency and can have impact on the work, client and agency and latitude to make your own mistakes, you’re in a good place. Conversely, if you’re in a small shop where you’re micromanaged and relegated to unimportant tasks/jobs then you need to change agencies.

It’s important throughout your career to step back and ask yourself these questions: 

Am I doing important work here? 

Am I learning from people better than me?

Am I pushed to be better?

Am I supported creatively?

Am I able to have a life outside of work here? Not just temporarily, but consistently?

If the answer is yes to these, then you’re good. If you answer “no” to more than 2 of these questions, you need to reevaluate staying at that agency.

That said, as a manager of a creative department for 15+ years, I can tell you that the most frustrating thing for me is when someone comes to tell me they’re leaving over an issue that I wasn’t aware of. Talk to your manager early and often. Don’t be a whiner. Don’t ask for “your path”. Ask for feedback. Share your goals and things you’d like to work on or be exposed to. 

When I started this Tumblr two years ago, I scoured it for blogs about advertising that I could learn from. A Creative Director here at the agency told me I had to check out the blog Metal Potential. I was drawn to its brevity, how quickly he cut to the work’s competitiveness. When I later found out that the person behind Metal Potential was also a CEO, I was blown away. I had to find out how someone who ran one of the best creative departments in the industry made the move to running one of the best agencies in the industry.

Back around 2002, Lee Clow made me the Chief Creative Officer of our Los Angeles office.

At the time, he gave me one of the keys to success for a CCO and a company at large. Over tacos at the Hacienda restaurant in El Segundo he scribbled his wisdom on a paper napkin. It said, "Great people + great work = growth and profits."

For the better part of a decade this formula served me well.

Then on January 5, 2015, I stepped out into the atrium of TBWA\Chiat\Day New York and said to the 150-person crowd:

"My name is Rob Schwartz and I am your new CEO."

What I had come to find out is that there's a big difference between CCO and CEO. Of course the similarity is in the Chief part. You are both leaders of teams. Yet where the CCO has a purview of all things creative, the CEO has a purview of all the creative things and literally everything else. Namely, the pre-creative period. The development and execution of the creative product. What happens after the product is developed. And taking all of the necessary actions to make sure the creative product happens -- all of the support, all of the people, all of the systems.

So, while the "Lee napkin" still held truth, I soon learned that there was a whole lot more.

The 4-P's: A CEO's Best Friend

When I first took on the CEO role, I organized and began analyzing the task in four areas: Product, People, Process and Profit. (I'm no genius; I simply borrowed this model from Marcus Lemonis of the TV show the "Profit.")

In fact, if you look at any business, especially your own, it really boils down to these things. What's your product and is it great? Who are the people making it? What's the process to achieve greatness? And profit -- are you being fairly compensated and earning a strong margin?

So, let's take a look at the differences between CCO and CEO through this "Four-P" lens.

Priority One: Product

As a Chief Creative Officer or as a CEO, the main objective is the same -- deliver a powerful and effective creative product. As a creative, I was obsessed with the quality of the work from the blank sheet of paper (or blank screen) until delivery. I sweated over every verb and adjective. Every image. Every director. Every voiceover. You name it. As a CEO, I'm still on the lookout for those things (although I work with some truly gifted creatives, so most of that is sorted), yet I now find myself obsessed with so much more.

Allow me to explain.

Whereas I used to wait for the brief as a creative, as CEO, my involvement starts much earlier in the process. In fact, it starts the second I meet with the client. I listen closely to the business problem. I try to understand who will be involved in the decision and approval process. I start to ask questions about the media, the target audience and the budget. At the same time, my brain starts working into overdrive thinking about who will work on this project at the agency and how will we inspire them to create something great.

It's a People Business

As a creative director, my main priority was to keep the people who worked for me inspired, productive and relatively happy. (They were creatives, after all, and "happy" is a relative term.) As a CEO, I am still focused on retention. And I spend quite a bit of time and effort on ensuring that we create a work environment that is unique, special and productive. But one big difference I have noticed is as CEO, I spend an incredible amount of time recruiting. I am constantly on the lookout for great, new talent. And I noticed that my calendar, on a weekly basis, has several meetings with new people. Some are candidates. Some are soon-to-be candidates. Some are simply people who make me smarter. But while I was inwardly facing as a CCO, as a CEO, I'm looking inside and out.

Process: You Need One

As a creative director, I was ok with process. I was also more than ok with chaos. You need both. That said, as a CEO, I am more aware of processes. First, I study the process now to see if everything we are doing is yielding the best creative product. Secondly, I look at process to see if there are ways we can do things smarter, faster and ultimately better.  

Show Me the Profit

I have to say that when I was a Chief Creative Officer, I could care less about the profit of the company. Sure, I wanted the money to pay for great people, to buy cool furniture for the office, to pay for award show submissions and, of course, I wanted money to bonus people who really went above and beyond.

But I never thought for two seconds that we as an agency might not be getting compensated fairly. Or that there was a demand, and a huge difference between delivering an 8% profit margin and an 18% one to our bosses. It simply wasn't on my radar.

Well, as a CEO it certainly is now!

Sure, I can't escape the various 9+3 and 6+6 financial reporting meetings.

But now I am looking at profit as a way to measure, invest and reward. More than ever, I am looking at the money because I think agencies are getting taken advantage of.

It's been well-documented that the key issue is that procurement folks look at an agency creative product in the same way they look at commodity product from companies who provide them with staplers, paper clips and flash drives.

But ideas and stories -- the truly unique product of an agency -- have a very different value than an office supply commodity.

Supplying a paper clip and creating an idea like "Think Different" are not the same. It's Apple to oranges.

And frankly, as a CEO, I'm more aware of this than ever. Because as the world gets more distracted, as more devices and platforms proliferate and the further the media landscape fragments, the product an ad agency makes -- and the product only an ad agency can make -- will become more important. More valuable. Because the agency product -- the idea -- is the one thing that can unify this Balkanized marketing universe. And it will arise from the sum total of the People and Process -- the very thing of which I am the CEO. It's this kind of stuff that, yeah, as a Chief Creative Officer I wasn't thinking about.

But I can't stop thinking about it now.

From the Desk of the CEO

I couldn't be more satisfied making the transition from CCO to CEO. After all, my enthusiasm and belief in the power of a great creative idea has not diminished in the least. If anything it's gotten stronger. What's even better now is that I can craft more ways to make something epic. I have more influence over the People and Processes that help formulate something great. And I am going to try to find smarter and fresh ways to get our agency paid for this work.

All of which makes being a CEO, well, the most creative job in our business.

I met Pete years ago at a One Show Festival in NYC. It was my first time to attend the show. And my first time to win a pencil. Pete’s team invited us to dinner after the show. It’s safe to say, that dinner was of the most memorable times I’ve had in my time in advertising. The conversation was inspiring, entertaining and unforgettable. Pete is dynamic and a generous creative leader. He’s judged more shows than most, which makes him a trusted advisor in how we should think about the award books.

I don’t have any award show annuals in my office. I used to, until I realized they are completely useless to me.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I love when we win awards. But I don’t need to look back through award show annuals to draw inspiration from things that have already been made. I want to create things that have never been made before.

Tinker Hatfield at Nike Design always told his designers to go out into the world and study everything but shoes. Automobiles. Airplanes. Carpentry. He wanted his team to gain inspiration from outside the category and bring it to the design of shoes. That’s where you find new thinking.

Today, a man who was never in the auto industry is completely revolutionizing cars. A man who was never in the computer industry revolutionized Apple. We have to pay attention to these things.

Some of the best people in advertising weren’t even trying to be in advertising. Ty Montague was never looking to get into this business; he was a raft guide, a mechanic and a bartender before advertising. Jerry Cronin was a house painter who fell into advertising through a woman who was in design; he turned out to be one of the greatest CDs to ever come out of Wieden+Kennedy. Kathy Hepinstall wanted to be a literature professor before she became a creative director/copywriter. She's now a novelist who remains one of the best writers in our business today. These people brought thinking from totally different backgrounds to our industry and we’re much better for it.

Creative ideas don’t only come from people with “creative” in their title. Great ideas come from people who understand humanity and how to connect with other humans. Being creative is about being open-minded and having a keen insight into other people. You’re not living up to your creative title if you’re not being open-minded.

But I’ve been open-minded and I’ve certainly failed during my career. And I’ve hired people who have failed. It’s in these instances that I’ve learned the most.

At Deutsch, we’re hiring internet kids. We’re hiring talent that isn’t native to our industry, keeping an open mind to the influence of other industries on our own.  We want content creators from everywhere — engineers, architects, baseball fans-turned-Instagrammers (@BaseballCardVandals).  We want talent that understands culture and forecasting future trends, not just the history of advertising. If you don’t stuff your face with culture, you’re only doing half of your job.

When you have free time, try new things that you wouldn’t normally do.  Personally, I download tons of apps just to try new things and experiences. I used to go to record stores and bookstores just to look at covers. The covers of books and old albums have always been a source of great creative inspiration to me. If my idea can’t survive as a cover, it’s not good enough. This approach made me a better art director, and it also opened my mind to different types of art that influenced me throughout my career, both as a creative director and furniture maker. And they have nothing to do with advertising in the traditional sense.

Most of us know Bill Bernbach’s famous words: “In advertising, not to be different is virtually suicidal.” We have to embrace ideas from the outside. That’s how we’ll carry this creative business forward.

And rather than focus on the great work and creative talent of the past, go make things that people care about. Put your own twist on something that’s been done before and make something new and useful. And don’t be afraid to sink your teeth into the culture outside of your norm for inspiration.

Women in Business Q&A: Carolyn Hadlock, Principal and Executive Creative Director, Young & Laramore

via Huffington Post / Laura Dunn

I would say being average at almost everything during my school years informed my thoughts on leadership. I never had the arrogance of thinking I knew everything, or the lack of self esteem that I didn't know anything.

In college, after finally settling on my major (Graphic Design), the head professor told me at the end of the year that he wasn't going to keep me in the program because I had no talent and that I was wasting my parents' money. Humiliated, I went home and told my parents the new plan - go to a local art school and keep the internship I'd already started at a marketing firm that summer.

The hardest part of it all was that when I went back to school, I had to start over as a freshman, during what should have been my senior year. But I stuck it out, and by the time I was (once again) a senior in college, I was a Creative Director at a small advertising agency.

That experience taught me to not allow other people to decide my talent.

A question from a BYU AdLab student:

What is the role of a Creative Director?

While this may be a very simple question on the surface, it's actually a very complicated answer. Because every Creative Director is different. I have yet to meet any two that are alike. Every job description for a Creative Director says the same thing: "You're responsible for the work". But that's where the similarities end. How they get to the work is where they differ.

Personally, I prefer the people who actually adhere to the title and "direct" vs those that "do". I'd rather work under someone who was more interested in motivating me to get to the best work versus someone who dictated the work- even if it means I will miss out on getting an award. As creatives, we are always evolving, always learning and if we rely too heavily on our Creative Director then we never learn to stand on our own. I remember, when I was first an Art Director at Young & Laramore, I relied heavily on my Creative Director. I just didn't realize how much. Then one day, he had a heart attack, and he was out of the office for several weeks. It threw me into a bit of a tailspin. I had to figure out how to have my opinions on the work. It was a difficult and challenging transition for all of us, but when he came back, I was a better creative for it. 

Here's how to tell a good Creative Directors from a bad one. Good CDs are honest and direct without making it personal. Good Creative Directors don't rest until you've solved the problem and made the best work. They run interference with the client, and have your back internally. They push you harder than you think you can be pushed. 

Sadly, most people in our industry thinks that they have to become a Creative Director to have made it. It's just not the case. And it's put many people in the position that have no business being in it. That's why you'll find many more articles on bad Creative Directors than good ones. 

On the flip side, how you are towards your Creative Director directly affects how he/she will be towards you. If you are proactive, passionate and positive, they will treat you accordingly. If you are whiny and tentative, they will treat you accordingly. It's a two way relationship. 

Communication Arts, Stephanie Orma:

CAROLYN HADLOCK, principal and executive creative director, Young & Laramore “Years ago, when I was an art director at Young & Laramore, I was going through a tough time juggling multiple projects. David Young, the agency’s co-founder, asked me how I was holding up. I said I was good—even though I was incredibly stressed out. He said he admired that I wouldn’t allow myself to become a victim and be defined by my circumstances. Though there are days when my whiny self kicks in, I hear David’s words and they right me.”